


Wounded Hearts, Fractured Souls

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chris Argent Feels, Conversations, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Established Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Feelings, M/M, Minor Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Plans For The Future, Post-Break Up, Reminiscing, younger Cora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 05:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13093809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: “Do you want me to save your niece or not?” Chris asked.“I’m too used to empty promises by Argents,” Peter answered, though he took a step back into the hospital room. “This doesn’t change anything, Christopher.”Chris faintly nodded, believing that he knew Peter well enough to catch when he was bluffing. But that was a lifetime ago—that was before Peter retreated behind a wall of sarcasm and disdain to lick his wounds. He caught the faint red glow behind Peter’s irises, recognizing it for the threat it was.





	Wounded Hearts, Fractured Souls

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the Petopher Secret Santa Exchange, and is a gift for [alecc-bane](http://alecc-bane.tumblr.com/). I based it off of [this post](http://alecc-bane.tumblr.com/post/166662999247/mieczyslawstilesstilinski-petopher-au-years), hoping they will enjoy this little fic.
> 
> Small side note: Peter became Alpha after the fire, and yes Laura is still alive, though she doesn't make an appearance. It is also hinted at that there are more in the Hale pack than just Hales, and I like to think that Derek's Betas would be Peter's Betas in this AU ... because reasons.

Peter leaned over Cora as he dabbed the cold washcloth to her forehead. He tried to keep her temperature down, refusing to accept that he was about to lose another family member. “Don’t give up,” he softly uttered. “Don’t leave us, Cora-bug.”

Cora’s body temperature was elevated beyond normal limits, her body covered in a cold sweat. She was slowly dying—her body shutting down from the poison pumping through her veins. Trembles raked through her as incoherent words mumbled beneath her breath. Her machines released a low drum of beeps.

“Damn it,” Peter harshly cursed as he hit the call button again. He turned to walk out into the hallway, determined to yell at the nurses—again—when he finally found one of them. “Can someone help her?” He started to yell in a louder voice. He never liked hospitals, especially Beacon Hills’ Hospital after the fire.

Peter was almost in the hallway when he saw someone he never thought he’d be forced to lay eyes on again. He backed up into the shadow of the doorway, his gaze never leaving Argent.

Chris came to a stop before Peter, making it obvious that he had arrived at his intended destination.

Peter flashed his eyes at Chris, a warning that he was prepared to fight despite the public location.

“I can help her,” Chris offered.

Peter glowered at Chris from the shadows. “Seems a little convenient that my niece grows deathly ill, and then you show up.”

“There’s a collection of hunters convening in Beacon Hills this month,” Chris simply answered, knowing that there was nothing he could really say to get Peter to trust him.

“So one of them did this,” Peter lowly growled.

“I’m not sure,” Chris stated. “Scott reached out to Allison,” he offered. “The symptoms sound familiar enough.”

Peter kept still against the doorframe.

“Do you want me to save her or not?” Chris asked, highly annoyed that Peter was wasting what little time the young Hale had left in order to argue with him.

“I’m too used to empty promises by Argents,” Peter answered, though he took a step back into the hospital room. “This doesn’t change anything, Christopher,” he firmly stated.

Chris faintly nodded, believing that he knew Peter well enough to catch when he was bluffing. But that was a lifetime ago—that was before Peter retreated behind a wall of sarcasm and disdain to lick his wounds. He caught the faint red glow behind Peter’s irises, recognizing it for the threat it was.

~*~

Peter watched Chris like the threat a hunter posed to a wounded pack, his eyes trained on the Argent’s back. He watched as Chris inspected Cora’s vitals.

“How long has she been like this?” Chris asked as he pressed his fingertips against Cora’s jugular.

“Two days,” Peter answered. “She’s been slowly getting worse.”

“It looks like it could be mistletoe,” Chris concluded as he stood back. He turned to look at Peter. “Has anyone dosed her?”

“I think that would be the first thing I would have told my emissary,” Peter sharply replied. “Is this it, Argent? You come in here, poke my niece and then act like the hero?”

“If it is mistletoe, her body is going to shut down,” Chris stated, ignoring Peter’s sass. “Mistletoe is a canceling agent when it comes to the supernatural. It’s trying to cancel out her existence. But mistletoe isn’t something hunters use.”

“Or that’s what they want me to think,” Peter answered as he looked at Chris. “It wouldn’t be the first time a hunter tried to cover their tracks.”

A frown pulled at Chris’ lips, his nose scrunching up. “I’ll see what I can get from my contacts.”

“I don’t want more hunters knowing about this,” Peter quickly stated. “The fact that you know is enough.”

“Peter, they could help,” Chris tried to make Peter see reason.

“She’s only fourteen years old, Chris,” Peter calmly stated, looking up at Chris. “If someone dosed her, it’s an act of war against my pack.”

Chris looked at Cora. “If you let me reach out to my contacts, I could find something that could save her life.”

“As I recall, not all hunters are bleeding hearts, Christopher,” Peter lowly stated. “I learned that a long time ago.”

“Stop it,” Chris angrily snapped as he took a step towards Peter.

“Just because I let you try and help with my niece doesn’t mean I’ll suddenly trust you again,” Peter countered, standing to attention as he glared at Chris. “This changes nothing.”

“I know this isn’t going to change anything,” Chris quickly stated. “Maybe I came here because it was the right thing to do. I told you I had nothing to do with this.”

“No, you never have anything to do with it,” Peter harshly uttered under his breath.

Chris’ features twisted. He hated how warped it all became—how lines blurred and then they were suddenly no longer the stupid teenagers sneaking off into the hallways after a basketball game. They couldn’t share the laughter they once did—the joy of feeling breathless just because they could make each other smile. They could never again feel that rush of excitement they shared in stolen kisses, their innocence torn away too quickly.

The fire had torn through the Hale estate like it was nothing but kindling, but it wasn’t the only thing that burned that night. Peter’s words still hurt more than the truth could ever remedy—words shouted in anger at Chris before parting ways.

Chris hadn't known why Kate was smiling that next morning, only to have his stomach churn as Gerard slid the morning paper across the table for him to read, image of the Hale house ablaze, caption telling him little of who survived. He didn't get to say goodbye to Peter, only the fragments of the life they had in Beacon.

“You know I had nothing to do with the fire, Peter,” Chris firmly stated, still feeling the deep cut of Peter’s words.

“Always laying blame elsewhere,” Peter seethed.

“I’m not laying blame elsewhere,” Chris angrily replied. “Gerard sent me away after he caught us. I didn’t know what Kate had done until years later.”

“Convenient,” Peter uttered.

“It’s not convenient,” Chris argued. “It’s the truth. I wasn’t standing there with Kate as she dosed the house in gasoline—”

Peter grabbed a handful of Chris’ jacket, his claws ready to shred the material to nothing resembling a piece of clothing. He wanted Chris to shut up—he didn’t want to think about the fire, nor the smell of the hospital he sat in for months as his body slowly healed and adjusted to the Alpha spark.

“I lost a lot that day,” Peter lowly warned him. “Pick your next words carefully.”

“You didn’t lose it because of me,” Chris replied.

“Just your family,” Peter countered. “Derek wasn’t the first wolf to slip into a hunter’s bed.”

“Don’t you dare compare what she did to him to what we had,” Chris forcefully snapped. “We both knew what we were doing with each other, despite it all. Derek didn’t know Kate was a hunter.”

“I’ve seen you stand on the sideline for your family before—making excuses for them,” Peter elaborated. “Don’t try and take my anger and twist it.”

“You want to give me hell for not going against Gerard when he found out about us?” Chris incredulously asked. “He had a gun, Peter.”

“You just stood there!” Peter snapped, his eyes burning red with pain. “After he dragged me out of the car and put a  _ gun  _ to my head—you just stood there.”

“Because he had a gun, Peter,” Chris loudly answered. “I know what Gerard is capable of—I saw it first hand growing up with him as a father. I knew what he was capable of then, and I know how fucking twisted he is.”

Peter released his hold on Chris’ jacket, taking a step back.

“What did you want me to do, Peter?” Chris asked. “Tell me right now what you think a scared teenager could have done.”

“You could have come home with me,” Peter answered. “You could have not turned your back on me,” he weakly added. “You did nothing then, so what does that change now?”

“The difference is I’m not a child,” Chris answered Peter’s rhetoric, taking a step towards him. “I’m not living in fear of my father anymore, or what he might do to the people I care about.” He lightly shook his head before gesturing back to Cora. “This isn’t why I came here. I wanted to help you—and then maybe talk about this some other time.”

Peter shook his head taking a step toward Cora. “Then help.”

Chris sighed, turning to look at Cora. “Mistletoe is something only a highly trained hunter would think of using for a stealthy kill. But it’s almost too obvious, unless they could have gotten her to ingest it.”

“Mistletoe!” A voice loudly exclaimed from the hallway, the sound of rushed footsteps coming to a skidding halt.

Chris looked at the doorway, seeing Stiles arriving.

Stiles paused when he saw Chris. “Mr. Argent,” he sounded surprised, his eyes looking at Peter for a hint as to what was happening.

“Stiles,” Peter uttered the teenager’s name as he kept his gaze on Chris.

“It’s mistletoe,” Stiles quickly stated as he looked at Peter. “Someone has been poisoning household pets these past few weeks—Deaton was treating the last of them when I went to visit him. The symptoms—they match. Someone somehow fed her mistletoe,” he explained.

Derek arrived as Stiles finished his explanation. He froze when he saw Chris. “What the hell is he doing here?” He snapped.

Stiles took a step back, grabbing Derek’s arm to stop him from rushing forward. The tattoo on his forearm pulsed with magic, the tree’s branches swaying some as the leaves wilted, falling down to his palm where his skin touched Derek’s.

The blue flare in Derek’s eyes died away, the color flickering before disappearing.

“Scott told Allison,” Peter offered, his gaze still watching Chris. “It appears Scott can’t stop himself from telling Allison everything.”

Stiles’ features fell. “I told Scott,” he softly offered. “I asked him about talking with Deaton—to see if he knew of any remedies.”

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Peter answered, turning to finally look at Cora. “You were helping pack.”

Stiles still frowned, faintly nodding in acceptance. He released his hold on Derek, his gaze looking to Cora.

“If it is mistletoe poisoning, we should be able to help her,” Chris pointed out.

“You seem pretty comfortable in your assumptions, hunter,” Derek snapped.

“If I can help your sister, aren’t you willing to put our differences aside?” Chris argued.

“Mr. Argent’s right,” Stiles started, turning to look at Derek. “We don’t have to trust him,” he elaborated when Derek immediately turned to look at him in disbelief.

“Stiles is right,” Peter started, avoiding whatever dispute Derek and Stiles were about to get in. “If Chris can help us, that’s for the best.” He was looking at Derek when his nephew threw a glare his way. “Come now, Derek, if we can use Christopher to our advantage, that’s for the best.”

~*~

Cora smacked Derek’s hand when he tried to reach for her again. “I’m not going to break, Derek,” she angrily huffed in annoyance. “I’m fine,” she stated once more, taking Stiles’ arm as they started to walk towards the house.

“And using me to walk has nothing to do with the fact that you can’t walk yourself,” Stiles commented as he barely hid his smile.

“I’m using you to walk because otherwise Derek would throw me over his shoulder and carry me upstairs,” Cora answered, side-eying her brother.

A small scowl pulled at Derek’s lips as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Peter watched the three of them walking towards the house, content to hear the others rushing downstairs to greet them. He wasn’t sure if it was pride or sentiment that forced him to keep the gutted out Hale estate after the fire. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted the house rebuilt, not when so much had happened in the years since the fire. He knew without a doubt that he couldn’t replace what they all had lost that night, but he needed to try. He saw the way Derek still coiled away from him with uncertainty and hurt. There were still times when Peter didn’t even forgive himself for what happened during the fire—he still saw the warm blood on his hands, claws sharp and dripping red as Talia’s spark passed with her life.

Peter wasn’t sure if he respected Talia or resented her for her choice. His sister was a fighter, a strong leader and stubborn as hell more often than not. But he knew Talia to be pragmatic, and willing to make the difficult decisions when they came to pass. And nothing was harder than to accept one’s death—Peter thought he knew what that meant. But with her dying breaths, Talia made Peter promise to keep the pack safe—to keep Laura, Derek, and Cora all safe.

Peter barely reacted when Talia forced his claws across her throat, transferring the Alpha spark before it was too late—lost to the fire the hunters set. The burns were minor, nothing his new power couldn’t handle. He spent less than a week in the hospital, smoke inhalation being cited as the reasons for holding him when the doctors were mystified with his survival and rehabilitation. And just like that, Peter was suddenly the legal guardian of three orphaned children. He knew little about raising children, let alone the then child, teen, and young adult he found himself trying the parent. More often than not, people assumed he was their significantly older brother rather than uncle, and Peter at times preferred those moments when he could forfeit responsibility.

Peter turned to his ear towards the road leading out of the preserve and down to the main road. He faintly smiled to himself, recalling memories of a life long ago when he could allow himself such distractions. Nobody made his heart quicken the way Chris had. And he wondered if his wolf was right: was Chris still a distraction, or was he more.

Peter stole away from the scene his pack made as they filed into the house, heading down to driven path. He walked with ease as he passed by familiar trees, reminiscing the days he would travel down the road with pep in his step as he hurried to meet Chris. It was exciting, having someone all to himself that even his sister didn’t know about. He was a fool to think he could keep Chris.

“This feels intimately familiar,” Peter smiled as he came to a stop before Chris.

Chris faintly smiled at the thought. “I remember ducking  _ away  _ from the roads, not walking along them.”

“We also don’t have much to be afraid of now,” Peter replied. He paused, gesturing his head from side to side. “Well, in a manner of speaking. I’m sure if this pack of Alphas has their way, we’ll all be in cowering in our boots.”

Chris nodded, placing his hand on his hip as he adjusted his stance. He leaned his arm against the aging pine, all too familiar with how to retain his footing in spots like this riddled throughout the Preserve. “I spoke with a few contacts after what Cora told us. And it checks out: there is a pack of Alphas roaming the West coast. And it’s come to light that this  _ Alpha pack _ isn’t operating within the lines of the code. It’s going to get dealt with quickly.”

“If they are the ones that poisoned a fourteen year old, then I want a little bit more than just your guarantee this is being dealt with,” Peter forcefully answered.

“They have to be dealt with in a subtle way,” Chris nearly sighed, knowing Peter wanted more.

“They poisoned my niece,” Peter bit out. “To make matters worse, it was probably their emissary that was behind it.”

“How so?” Chris asked.

“Stiles has been looking into some loose ends,” was all Peter offered. “Alphas don’t poison Betas,” he elaborated when Chris just stared at him. “It’s a solution to an Alpha’s desires to weaken a pack.”

“The Alpha of Alphas wants the Hale pack weaker,” Chris started.

“So the Alpha’s emissary makes that a reality by poisoning a child,” Peter finished.

“Can you prove it?” Chris asked.

“Stiles will,” Peter calmly replied as he moved to lean his shoulder against the tree Chris leaned his hand again. “That I have no doubt of.”

“I’ll have to talk to him,” Chris stated.

“You’ll have to tread carefully there,” Peter warned as he leaned his head against the tree, gaze looking upwards. “Derek won’t like it.”

“I don’t need your Beta’s permission to talk to your emissary,” Chris replied as he looked at Peter. “I need yours.”

Peter snorted. “Since the fire, Derek tends to be more protective of the things he loves now.” He partially turned his head to look at Chris. “Just a warning,” he simply added.

“Noted,” Chris answered. “With whatever evidence Stiles gives, we should have enough proof that these Alphas are the same pack causing havoc.”

Peter looked at Chris, easily evaluating him. “So that’s it? They poison my niece and suddenly the big bad hunter becomes the knight in shining armor?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not like you,” he easily commented, narrowing his gaze at Chris.

“If you cooperate with me, it will make the others back off,” Chris admitted, knowing he couldn’t keep it a secret from Peter.

“Ha!” Peter vocally exclaimed, pushing off the tree to turn to pacing some as he scuffed his feet in the dirt. He loved his Italian boots, but sometimes it felt better to let your feet drag—especially when you wanted to kick something.

“Just accept this help for once,” Chris urged.

“What for?” Peter asked, turning to look at Chris. “It won’t change what happened—it won’t change the fact that the packs involved should settle this, not hunters.”

“I’m trying to help you, you stubborn ass,” Chris nearly snapped.

“I never asked for it,” Peter countered.

“Yet I’m still giving it,” Chris replied.

Peter silently stared Chris. He let his gaze linger on the man, something he hadn’t let himself do in a long time. He knew he still had remnants of feelings stirring around in his insides when it came to Chris. They never officially ended anything—or even started anything, for that matter.

Chris looked older, as if he had been dealing with the pressures of reality much longer than Peter. He had a life—one that seemed to hold a relative aura of normal, until he came back to Beacon Hills. But he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, and that made it so damn hard to make a decision when it came to him.

Peter took the necessary steps closer to Chris, hovering right before him as he sized him up. “You want in on this negotiation, you do it as pack.”

Chris didn’t flinch at Peter’s ultimatum, knowing for a while that it was coming down to this. “You said that you don’t trust me,” he answered instead, catching the faint red flicker in Peter’s eyes. “And an Alpha has to trust his pack.”

“But an Alpha’s mate can  _ loyally _ challenge him.”

Chris’ features softened some, even with the weight of Peter’s words being processed. Just like always, he felt the hollowing feeling of waves in his stomach, butterflies fluttering with excitement even in the uncertainty.

“This is insane, you know that,” Chris simply replied, no rebuke in his words.

“I like to think my insanity is charming,” Peter answered.

Chris couldn’t stop the light laugh that bubbled up in his chest.

“In reality, it benefits us both more than anything, does it not?” Peter offered. “Your clan of hunters is fractured, Allison being your saving grace—the one to lead you into a new era.” He waited for Chris’ nod of agreement before continuing, “And my pack is weak. Derek and Laura are my strongest betas, and Cora is growing stronger— _ that’s  _ why they went after her. And now that I have an emissary in training, the Hale pack is starting to rebuild itself to a fraction of its former glory.”

“What does the Alpha pack want?” Chris asked.

“For me to kill my Betas and join them,” Peter stated in a disinterested tone.

“And if you don’t?” Chris pressed

“To them, there is no other option than to accept,” Peter sighed as he looked at Chris. “I think you understand why I’m against that outcome.”

Chris nodded. “Can you beat them?”

“No,” Peter lightly answered, knowing it was the unfortunate truth. “Not left alone, we can’t. We need help—allies.”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, knowing that Peter had a point. He had put together more than one file on the Alpha pack, and he couldn’t name a single situation that ended with a rival pack prevailing. But here was Peter, suggesting one ridiculous proposal to counter the Alpha pack’s plans.

Life couldn’t be that simple … could it?

In the past, it definitely hadn’t been. Maybe that was what made this special. It was a second chance at correcting the mistakes of the past, and making their own decisions.

“Okay,” Chris found himself agreeing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> Things could grow from here, but who knows. I am always a sucker for Petopher falling in and out of and back in love with one another.
> 
> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.


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